


The Tangled Web We Weave

by Tamuril2



Category: Blue Bloods (TV), The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 02:56:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7873447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamuril2/pseuds/Tamuril2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Frank's used to being the target of mobsters and criminals. It's part of being the PC of New York. But what he's not used to is being rescued by a vigilante. *No slash*</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tangled Web We Weave

Despite the red mask, covering Spiderman's face, Frank can tell he's young. His bone structure and weight point to it. Too young, Frank thinks, to be doing this vigilante nonsense. It's a fine line these 'superheroes' tread. They take the law into their own hands, some with a bit more gusto than others. Most keep just to right side of the law, bagging their criminals and leaving them to the police to find on the sidewalks. But a few like to get some hits in, landing their catches in the hospitals. Thus, Frank can't, officially, support their cause or efforts. It just means he turns a blind eye to when there are sightings and the occasional suspicious voice in the supermarkets.

Even if this one is saving his life from O'Dwyer's latest play for power.

But…Frank would be lying if he didn't admit that the ease with which Spiderman is deposing of O'Dwyer's men doesn't unnerve him. It's not natural.

Any of it.

These are hardened criminals and highly trained. Yet, Spiderman bobs around them as if they're moving in slow motion.

"Get him, you idiots!" O'Dwyer yells as he flees to the side door.

A thin sting of webbing shoots after the mob boss, sticks to his leg, and pulls the red haired man up to the rafters. Needless to say, that high up, O'Dwyer stops struggling to get loose and focuses on yelling at his remaining men.

"Shoot him!" O'Dwyer shouts. "Shoot him!"

A barrage of bullets answer that command. They crack and bounce of the walls and floor. One nicks Frank's chair and he flinches at the near miss. Spiderman, possibly seeing this, rushes over to him and rips his bonds on half. "Get out! I got this!"

His voice is the high pitch of a teenager, which only makes this situation worse.

Frank crouches behind a crate and watches as the boy runs back into the fray, never hesitating as the guns continue to fire at him. He won't leave the boy alone, not if there is the slightest chance he might need someone to cover his back. Not that it really looks as if the boy needs help from him.

Spiderman's moves are animalistic precision at its best. The boy twists and spins as if in a savage dance. He makes the fight look easy. His hits get their marks, but never killing, just knocking the hitmen out. He seems to sense when someone is about to attack, sometimes whirling out of the way at the last second. It's both horrifying and astounding.

And Frank has no idea if it's something the boy has had from birth, or if he's an experiment gone right.

The red and blue clad vigilante smacks the last of O'Dwyer's men on the back of the head and the Irishman crumples into a messy heap on the floor. Then, the boy moves about the unconscious men, using his webbing to tie them up to crates and pipes; far enough away that they can't help each other escape the warehouse.

Frank nabs his gun from on top of a nearby crate. He unlocks the safety.

"You gonna shoot?" Spiderman asks without turning around.

Frank's grip on his sidearm tightens before he consciously lowers it. "Not unless more of them come through that door."

"Are you nuts?" O'Dwyer screams from the rafters. "Arrest him!"

Spiderman glances over his shoulder, body tensed to fling himself to the side, if need be.

Frank shakes his head, but doesn't holster the gun. "You take care of the guards outside?"

A pause.

A weighted look.

"Those I saw," Spiderman says. "I was kinda more worried about getting you before the time ran out."

"I appreciate that," Franks replies, clicking on the safety of his gun.

Spiderman half turns and cocks his head to the side. Rain slams down on the metal roof above them.

"You're different from the others," the boy says at last.

The 'others' being Frank's own men and women, of course. There's no other interpretation. The warrant for Spiderman's capture was rescinded last month, after forensics proved Doctor Connors killed Captain Stacy, but Frank knows it'll take time for this new view of Spiderman to take hold in the force. He might as well take his own first steps towards that.

"You hurt, son?" he asks.

Spiderman stiffens at that last word. He pulls himself up straight, as if that can somehow make Frank think he's anything older than sixteen (at best). Frank tries not to imagine Jack in this boy's place, fighting the lowlifes of the street and being shot at.

"I'm fine," Spiderman says. "You okay? They didn't…you know."

The boy gestures to Frank's overall self.

Franks smiles. "Nothing to write home about."

He'll leave the rope burns and stomach bruises for when he's safe at the precinct.

"Right. I'll take your word for it," Spiderman says, though his tone indicates he doesn't believe Frank one bit. He tilts his head to the side. "Your backup's here."

There's a tense silence. A 'what are you going to do now?' strain hanging in the air between them. Frank breaks it by nodding to the window. "About time for you to leave, son."

Spiderman stares at him. His mask hides any emotion, but Frank can guess the surprise that's there. It's in the action of the boy as he looks from the window to Frank and back again. As if he can't believe the PC is just letting him go.

"Might want to hurry, son."

It's all the encouragement the boy needs, evidently. He sprints across the dirty floor and crawls up the wall, disappearing into the rainy night.

"You let him go," O'Dwyer hisses in a scathing tone.

Frank gives that subtle threat all the attention it deserves. None. Instead, he goes to the side door, glancing only once at the window.

He might not agree with the vigilantes' stance on crime, but he'll stay his hand where he can.

It'll have to do for now.


End file.
